


Except

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-10 01:04:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13493592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: The prince’s android assistant can’t feel a thing.





	Except

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for anon’s “Ignis is not human but a android made to serve Noctis, working and being with him so constantly makes Gladio develop feelings for him even if he's not human and people keep saying to him that Ignis is not capable of felling emotions” prompt on [the FFXV kinkmeme](https://ffxv-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/4398.html?thread=7954734#cmt7954734).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

He’s sweaty and panting by the time they’re finished, glad he discarded his shirt at the beginning and wondering why in the world he left his jacket on. It’s a testament to Noctis’ progress that he can finally bring out that reaction, though the prince himself looks twice as bad, skin shimmering with moisture and chest hammering for air. When Gladiolus catches a flicker of Noctis’ attendant in the corner of his eye, he’s actually glad to be done with practice. He lets his broadsword disappear and gives Noctis a proud smile. Noctis seems too spent to return it. He actually stumbles a step when his own smaller sword dissipates into the air. 

He’s dragging his arm across his brow when Gladiolus comes over to shake his hand. Noctis’ grip is still impressively firm within Gladiolus’ thicker fingers. Then Gladiolus glances back to give Ignis a nod, signaling that their training’s over, but he stops halfway through the motion.

Noctis’ loyal android, built beautifully and utterly immaculate, has a new set of thin glasses across his handsome face. Noctis must follow the gaze, because he casually provides, “He damaged his ocular implants yesterday, and this was the best solution we could come up with until we can get someone to look at it.” Gladiolus nods subconsciously but doesn’t look back at Noctis. He can’t when Ignis is an option.

He mutters quietly, knowing that Ignis has superior hearing, “He looks cute in them.”

In his peripherals, he can see Noctis frowning. That turns his attention back. Giving him a funny look, Noctis slowly says, “Gladio... you _know_ he’s not capable of emotions, right?”

It’s Gladiolus’ turn to frown. He supposes he does know that. He accepted that when they first met, so long ago, when Gladiolus’ muscles weren’t quite so developed, and Ignis wore his hair down. Gladiolus had shaken hands with him anyway, and found his long, slender fingers so smooth and soft, as warm as any flesh. Still, Gladiolus hadn’t let his gaze linger. An android’s an android, whether or not they’re also quite attractive.

But they’ve worked together long enough now that Gladiolus can’t help but wonder. Because he could _swear_ that underneath it all, Ignis is inherently _fond_ of Noctis, far beyond mere duty. Gladiolus knows, because he feels the same way. And sometimes, when Ignis looks at him, he could swear that calm gaze lingers just a _tad_ longer than necessary.

Noctis breaks him of his reverie by announcing, “I’m gonna go change.” He doesn’t wait for Gladiolus’ agreement, just turns and marches off towards the changing rooms, leaving Ignis standing on the other side of the long hall, the pure picture of patience.

Gladiolus should probably clean up too. He’s almost as wrecked as Noctis is, and even if it’s processed differently, he still thinks Ignis will be able to smell the stench of his sweating body. And Ignis would never approach anyone without a shirt, even though his body’s likely just as handsome to look at. Not that Gladiolus would know. He just sort of wants to.

He strolls towards Ignis anyway. Ignis looks at him evenly, and when Gladiolus stops before Ignis, his eyes even flicker down, catching on Gladiolus’ exposed abs before returning to his face. Before Gladiolus can lose his nerve, he offers, “Nice glasses.”

Ignis answers simply: “Thank you.”

“You look cute.”

Ignis blinks. He’s frozen for a moment, then looks away, off towards where Noctis went. Gladiolus briefly wonders if he’s said something wrong, then if he’s said something that Ignis’ programming can’t commute. But then he notices a faint, barely-there flush of rose across Ignis’ well-defined cheeks, and that spurs him on to ask what’s been on his mind for weeks—“Do you wanna get dinner sometime?”

Ignis quirks an eyebrow, something that seems so _human_. He returns his eyes to Gladiolus and replies, “I don’t require meals.”

That’s probably closer to a ‘no’ than ‘yes,’ but it’s really neither, and Gladiolus isn’t one to give up easy. He counters, “You seem to enjoy cooking well enough. You’re always bringing Noct food.”

“I’m merely trying to please him.” Somehow, Gladiolus doesn’t _quite_ believe that. He’s seen Ignis at the stove one too many times. Ignis immerses himself as deeply in his food as Gladiolus does in practice, and he goes far above and beyond the basic sustenance that Noctis requires. But Gladiolus isn’t sure how to put that into words, and he doesn’t think he can convince an android of their own feelings. At least, not now, when he’s tired and already had his offer gently deflected. He nods politely and turns to go.

He makes one step, and then hears Ignis quiet voice add, “I would... like... to. Attend ‘dinner’ with you, that is.”

The slight hesitation over certain words says it all. But Gladiolus looks back anyway, searching Ignis’ perfect face, and wonders if he knows what that really means—the depths of Gladiolus’ own feelings, and the power of Ignis’ magnetism.

Ultimately, Gladiolus decides to take one small step at a time. He gives Ignis a friendly smile and says, “It’s a date.”


End file.
